


Addicted to Your Love

by LuxVestra



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Eichen House, F/M, Help, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Teen Wolf season 3, echo house, the birth of stalia, where it all began
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:03:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxVestra/pseuds/LuxVestra
Summary: UPDATE 10/18: I've been working on the story a lot lately, trying to revise it and add new chapters.  Sorry for the long delay its been really hard to find time to work on this.  I cant guarantee anything but hopefully I will have some stuff up soon.This will be a description of the first years of Stalia.  It will chronicle all of the canon moments of them together throughout various episodes with a few of of my own.  Almost everything, except for Allison being alive, will be canon up until they get back together, that is where it will diverge from canon.





	Addicted to Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> i want to continue doing this so please leave any feedback and let me know what i may be missing! (inspired by IamHurricanes Stalia Ever After and kaycares Unpack your heart).

“No. No, I think you’re wrong. I really think I should tell them. They’re going to want to know the story. The whole story” Meredith whispered into the phone. Stiles, standing with Oliver behind her with his back to her turned his head intrigued by the mysterious conversation he could not help but overhear. After a second, he dismissed her as another one of the crazed Echo House patients and turned back to face Oliver.

“I really think they should know.” Meredith vehemently added. Gripping the phone with both hands she continued, “Yes I do. One of them is standing right behind me.” This last comment grabbed Stile’s attention and as soon as Meredith hung up the phone and walked by them, he asked Oliver:

“Who was that?

“That’s Meredith, she’s a little weird,” Oliver casually responded

“You’re a little weird. She’s a lot weird.” Stiles wittily replied. He then turned to the phone and picked up the phone before trying the hook switch. He pressed it twice. Nothing. Stiles pressed it a third time just to make sure. The silence that followed his third attempt only corroborated his initial assumption:

“It’s dead

“Yeah they turn the phone off all the phones for 24 hours after a suicide.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before” Stiles frustratingly stated.

“Why didn’t you ask?” Oliver added. Stiles could not take it anymore. He needed to get out of this “Echo House” as soon as possible. He could not and would not spend another minute there, let alone another night.

“What are you going to do now” Oliver asked as Stiles stormed away from the phone.

“I am going to get out of this nuthouse” Stiles replied.

“That’s not really the appropriate way to describe a facility like this.” Oliver responded trailing behind Stiles as he nervously rubbed his hands together. Stiles kept on storming forward when all of a sudden, something, or rather someone, caught his eye. Stiles’ heart stopped, then it skipped a beat.

“Malia?”

As she turned around, Stiles’ heart skipped a beat a second time. He forgot how breathtakingly beautiful she was. The only other time he had seen her was when they rescued her and then dropped her off at her dad’s house. Stiles was sitting in the police car, watching his father, Sherriff Stilinski, help her out of the car before escorting her up to her front door. Leaning out of the passenger window with his arm crossed he marveled at the effortless natural beauty she exuded. Now, seeing her again was like having the wind knocked out of him. The brown tresses that came down past her shoulders and her dark brown eyes. God. Her eyes, practically inviting him to get lost in them. Snapping out of his trance, Stiles noticed the intense glare she wore on her face. Gathering himself, he realized that maybe Malia had forgotten who he is, so he decided to help her and adds:

“Hey, it’s Stiles I’m friends with Scott. Remember we were the ones who helped you out with…”

Before he could finish, she punched him. A right hook that caught him right in the jaw and dropped him. As he lay there on the ground. Stiles could only think about one thing. How freaking beautiful she was when she was angry.

 

 

As Malia sat across from Stiles, the only thing she could think about was how badly he smelled. He reeked yet somehow it seemed like she was the only one who could notice it. No one else, not even the people sitting next to him, seemed to be affected by his stench. Malia’s train of thought was interrupted by Ms. Morell:

“I want to go back to the topic of guilt today,” she remarked with her legs crossed and clipboard resting on her lap. “It might surprise you to hear me say that guilt is a good thing. It’s rather a mature emotion.”

How could guilt be a good thing Malia thought? She hated how it felt. That terrible gut wrenching feeling of knowing you did something wrong yet can do nothing to change it. Here she was, in Eichen House and forced to live with the fact that she killed her family on a full moon, and this woman telling her that what she felt was a good thing?

“Malia, you said something about guilt the other day. You said it came with a visceral reaction.” Ms. Morell added.

“I said it made me feel sick to my stomach” Malia said without taking her gaze off Stiles. She scrunched her nose wondering if she was catching the scent of something else by accident, but quickly realized that it was indeed only Stiles who stunk. Had he not showered the day before? Why did he smell so bad and why did no one else notice it?

“Guilt often becomes physical. You feel it in your gut. It’s not just psychological." At that moment Malia saw Stiles turn away and look over his right shoulder. She tracked his gaze but could not see what he was looking at. He was fidgeting, constantly rubbing his hands together, lacing and unlacing his fingers. His heart was also doing funny things. It was beating a lot faster than what she thought should be normal. Malia wondered if maybe Stiles was sick.

“How does guilt make you feel, Stiles?” Ms. Morell asked, having noticed Stiles’ obvious lapse in attention.

“I’m sorry what?” Stiles blurted out, snapping his attention back to the support group circle.

“Guilt. What does it make you feel?” Ms. Morell said, frustrated to have repeated herself.

“Nervous” Stiles responds, still fidgeting with his hands and now bouncing his right knee up and down. Malia found this nervous tick extremely distracting. She wished she could just go over there and clamp one hand down on his hands the other on his leg, so he would stop shaking.

“Like a sense of urgency? You feel an urgent need to make up for something you’ve done.” Ms. Morell suggested. Malia agreed. She wished she could make up for what she did to her mom and her sister. She wished more than anything that she could undo what she did, to take back those last words she spat at her mom before she got in the car. To at least tell her mom that she loved her. Maybe even to warn her to leave Malia at home and not take her in the car. 

Ms. Morell continued, “to apologize? These are healthy responses. Does anyone know what we call someone who doesn’t experience guilt?” 

“Sociopath.” Oliver added, slowly and shyly raising his hand.

“That’s right Oliver” Ms. Morell responded. Malia was not even listening to the conversation anymore. All she could do was glare at Stiles and think about how angry she was with him. He had invaded her home and forced her to become human. What right did he have to do that? What gave him the right to determine how she lived her life? She was fine as a coyote. Yeah sure it was lonely but at least she did not have to try and explain to anyone, especially her father, how her mom and sister died because she lost control. In all the bathrooms at Eichen House she would have to look at herself in the mirror and all she could think about was how much of a monster she truly was. In the wild, there were no mirrors.

“I’m sorry everyone but we need to take a break.” Ms. Morell exclaimed, grabbing Malia’s attention. Ms. Morell never took a break at any of the previous sessions, it was unlike her to end one early. Curious about the reason for the unexpected interruption, Malia looked at Ms. Morell, who was not looking at her, rather at Stiles. The funny thing was that she was not making eye contact with Stiles. Instead she was looking at his neck. Intrigued, Malia craned her own neck to try and get a better angle, but once Stiles lifted his head up, the edge of his gray t-shirt covered his neck back up and Malia could see nothing. Frustrated with not knowing what was going on, Malia was about to ask Ms. Morell what was going on, to figure out what was wrong with Stiles. Maybe she smelled him too, either way Malia had to know right now. However, Ms. Morell cut her off:

“Come with me Stiles, I’d like to talk to you for a second.”

Stiles walked into the bathroom to wash his face. Okay. Okay, just got to stay awake, Stiles you just gotta stay awake. As he looked at himself in the mirror he noticed the bags that were starting to form under his eyes. He had not been able to sleep at all, especially with the Nogitsune so close to gaining control over him. Stiles had to use every ounce of energy to stay awake, to fight the Nogitsune. He was not going to let it win, he was not going to let it take control of his body, he was not going to let his friends down. As Stiles splashed his face once again, he took in his surroundings. The tarnished handle of the sink, the brown tiles on the floor, the crack in the mirror, the beige tiles on the walls, and the shower running. The shower running? Stiles though he was in her alone. After quickly rubbing his eyes than focusing on the shower in the mirror, he noticed a tall, slender figure showering. Then, that someone turned around and made eye contact with him. It was Malia.

“Don’t worry, Stiles, you didn’t just accidentally walk into the girls’ room”

“Thank God.” Stiles was in full panic mode. Malia freaking Tate was standing right behind him, showering, without clothes. If he thought it took a lot of energy to fight the drowsiness that loomed over him, it took probably twice as much not to turn his head and look up at Malia. Forcing himself to intensely stare at the tiling on the floor, Stiles continued: “Um. Okay so what what are you doing in the boys’ room?”

“Showering.”

“I can see that. I mean, I saw that. Well, actually, I didn’t see anything really. I just…There was too much steam to, uh…Not that I would prefer there to be less steam…” He lied, he really would like there to be less steam. He would have also like it if he were a little closer to her. Maybe in the shower too. Without clothes. His hands on her… stiles mentally kicked himself, if that were possible. He had to stay focused, he could not afford to get distracted right now. It would cost him too much.  
“Stiles, I don’t care. In the woods there was no boys’ and girls’ room. And if you really need to know, they keep the water temperature in the girls’ room to low. It’s much hotter in here. Ever since I turned back to human, I just can’t seem to get warm.” Stiles would love to help her get warm, in every and any way possible… Reigning in his thoughts Stiles responded:

“Maybe you just have a low core temp. You know, you might just be sick or…”

“I used to have a fur coat.”

“Or, it could be…Hey, it might be that. It’s probably that.” Just then Malia turned off the shower, and Stiles counted to three seconds giving her what he thought was more than enough time to grab her towel and wrap it around herself. One. Two. Three. Stiles relieved looked up from the floor and almost passed out. Three seconds had, in fact, been not enough time for Malia to cover up, or even dry off for that matter. And so, when Stiles looked up, he was greeted with a view of Malia completely naked and beads of water covering her entire body. Her legs glistening in the moonlight that leaked in through the small windows on the wall, the only source of light in the bathroom. As his eyes devoured every inch of her, Stiles’ heart raced. God, she was so beautiful. He wanted to kiss every part of her, to let her know how much she deserved to be worshipped. Quickly realizing that he had been staring, Stiles turned his away and looked at the floor again, using every ounce of willpower not to look up again.

“Now you’re staring.”

“No, I’m not,” he lied.

“Then what are you doing?” She said, as she wrapped the towel around her, perhaps noticing how distracted Stiles seemed.

“Phew!” Stiles replied. No longer distracted, Stiles turned and looked her in the eyes. That was another mistake. Her brown eyes were indescribably beautiful. Unsure of what to do, he looked down at the floor again. “Uh… I was kind of wondering why you punched me.”

“Did you think I was going to thank you?”

“No.” He lied, again. To be honest he half-expected her to say thank you. “Maybe” he added. “We did kind of save your life.”

“You’re right, Stiles. Thank you. Thanks for invading my home. For putting me on the run. For turning me back to human so I could look at my father every day and try to figure out how to explain to him that the reason my sister and mother are dead is because I almost at them on a full moon. Thank you so very much.”

“We were just trying to help.” Why did she not understand? They had saved her. Her own dad almost shot and killed her, his own daughter, granted he thought she was the coyote that killed her mother and sister, but still. All they wanted to do was help, all he wanted to do was help.

“You want to help me? Find a way to change me back.”

“You want to go back? To being a coyote?” asked Stiles, incredulously. He paused for a moment, he could help her with that.

“What do you know?” Malia answered, noticing that Stiles seemed to be hiding something.

“I might know someone who could teach you how to change.”

“Okay. What do you want?” she eagerly responded. 

“I need to get into the basement.” The same basement he had seen before. The same basement he looked into, from above, when Malia dropped him with a right hook to the face. “Which means that I need to get the keys off of that orderly, the big one,” he continued”

“Brunski.” She blurted out, finishing his thought for him.

“You help me and I’ll help you.” Stiles said. He could not do this on his own. As much as he wanted to stop anyone else from getting hurt, as much as he wanted to keep Malia out of it, to keep her safe, he needed her help. Right now, he needed all of the help he could get.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave comments!!  
> P.S.  
> Basically my thought is that Malia doesn't know what chemosignals are yet, or at least she doesn't know how to interpret them.  
> Later on she will learn from Scott, who will also teach her her how to use her claws and super hearing.


End file.
